


Stolen Sweets

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, POV Second Person, Protective Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert, Secret Relationship, Smut, Sweet Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: Your best friend Thor is determined to find you, one of Asgard's finest warriors, a suitor. But little does he know that behind biting insults and hateful glares, your heart is very much taken by his brother, Loki.What will happen when carefully laid plans go awry?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 267





	Stolen Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> I'm terrible at summaries, but thank you for reading anyway! This is my response to a request given to me on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy! <3

“You’ll have to be quicker than that if you wish to best me.”

Thor’s laughter bellowed around the bustling training grounds, drawing several heads before they turned back to their training. Wiping the sweat from his brow with his massive golden forearm, he shook his head with a genial smile. “Speed is not my forte. If you wish for speed, it is my brother you should seek.”

It was an easy feat to hide any instinctual reaction at the mention of Loki. Practice settled the grimace on your face despite the heat clenching your stomach as you glanced at Loki watching you idly from the edge of the arena. Your eyes met and parted with not so much as a blink between either of you. “Loki is not for me, that much is certain. Now, are you going to fight me, or try to settle me with a suitor? Sif seemed quite amiab-”

The brutal strike of his axe--he tended not to spar with Mjolnir for the advantage it brought--reverberated down your entire body and silenced the rest of your mischievous banter. _Thank the Norns._

You were far more comfortable deflecting blows behind your sword than dodging questions about your persistent lack of a romantic relationship.

“A draw, milady. Take mercy on your best and oldest friend and join us in the hall for mead and our evening meal.”

You grinned and followed Thor from the training grounds, waving at the Warriors Three and Sif waiting for you up ahead. Ever aware of your surroundings, you stiffened for just a moment at Loki coming up behind you.

“You could not defeat this great oaf?”

Narrowing your eyes, you whipped your head around to sneer at Loki. “I have yet to see you beat him in a sparring match, snake. Running your mouth and running from enemies will only serve you well for so long before you trip.”

Thor lagged back to walk in between the two of you with a heavy sigh. “You bicker like siblings. Is that not meant to be my job?”

“It would be, were you adequately prepared for such a task. Yet, you have come lacking,” Loki rolled his eyes and clasped his hands behind his back with the lift of his chin. 

“Watch your tongue,” you hissed, stopping in front of the others and turning fully to face Loki. “He is still your Prince.”

“And I am still yours. Do not forget yourself. I could easily have you sent t-”

“And that’s enough glaring at each other for today. Come, my friend. You can fight your battles again with Loki tomorrow.”

~

The sound of merry conversation, clinking cutlery to plates, and tankards placed upon long wooden tables could not fully drown out the thoughts swirling haphazardly in your mind.

The mead did not help, but it also was the only thing keeping you in Thor’s company.

You loved him, truly, as a dear friend and great warrior. He was charismatic, friendly, and a sun shining bright in the overfilled room.

But he was nothing compared to Loki.

Even sitting at the end of the table, listening with a quizzical brow and small smirk, he drew your attention like none other. A shining star on a cloudless night, pale and dark with cheekbones and a jawline that caught your eye and practically glowed in flickering amber shadows, you sought him out above all others. 

His smile was harder to earn, but gleamed the brightest when you did. His attention was harder to hold, but the accomplishment of being the sole focus of his arresting stare and cunning mind was a feat worthy proclaiming through Asgard’s streets. The walls surrounding his heart were the hardest to scale, but the riches you found on the other side were more than worth the journey.

But his life was not his own. A Prince of Asgard, his every action taken and word spoken was under a critical eye. His future was not his own, nor his will. Duty to Asgard first, and anything he truly wanted second, if it were allowed at all.

Better to ask forgiveness than permission when love was on the line.

“And what of you?” Thor’s heavy hand clapped down on your shoulder and almost caused you to spill your mead for how thoroughly it startled you. “When will you settle down with a suitor? One as skilled as yourself must have courtly men begging for your hand at every turn.”

Loki’s stare was a weighted thing, heavy and piercing on the side of your face as you sat back on your bench and gestured around the room with a too-wide smile. Thor had been on the sensitive subject for days and showed no sign of stopping, no matter your response.

“When one as skilled as myself asks for it. As I have yet to meet my match, it has yet to be taken.” Your eyebrows lifted and you dropped your chin to look at Thor through your lashes. “Are you asking me for my hand?”

The table erupted with laughter and you hid your sigh of relief behind a strained chuckle. The rest of the conversation was thankfully overtaken by another story of battle, both Thor and Fandral puffing out their chests to prove who had been the better warrior that day. Such talk required the bare minimum of input from others--an enthusiastic nod or monosyllabic agreement worked fairly well--which allowed you to take notice of Loki tapping his finger on the table three times before standing up and silently taking his leave.

The minutes between his departure and yours stretched for an eternity. They were necessary, yes. You couldn’t arouse suspicion.

You didn’t have to feign the roll of your eyes as you rose and finished the rest of your mead. “Well, if you two are going to spend the night comparing the length of your weaponry, I shall take my leave.”

“Yes,” Fandral laughed, “you have clearly outmatched us all in that department.”

“Another reason that I have yet to find a suitor,” you winked and sauntered from the room, picking up your pace once you were free from wandering eyes.

A familiar, comforting rush of warmth and green light washed over your body as you crossed behind a pillar, and you knew that you were now hidden from prying eyes. How Loki managed to use his seidr so effectively was a marvel to you.

All you knew was that he used it most often when it benefited him, and you arriving to his chambers unseen proved quite beneficial for you both.

As soon the door closed behind you, Loki pinned you to it with the length of his body and nuzzled his face into your neck, nipping at the tender skin he found with a low growl. “You have yet to meet your match?”

“It is the truth, my Prince,” you wrapped your hands in his silken hair and tugged, challenging him, knowing that he would gladly accept. “Unless you can prove otherwise.”

His hands hooked underneath your thighs and lifted you with ease, forcing you to wrap your legs around his slender middle with a quiet laugh as he carried you to his bed. His lithe form belied his strength, which was made readily apparent when he tossed you onto the soft emerald sheets without even so much as a grunt of effort.

The gleam of his grin drew all the moisture from your throat to pool between your wantonly spread legs. “Allow me to prove it to you, my love.”

Deft hands made quick work of your clothing until your skin warmed from the press of his bare flesh into yours. You sighed your happiness to the ceiling as he moved down your body, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses everywhere his hungry mouth could reach. Silken locks that had wound around your fingers moments ago tickled the insides of your thighs to make them quiver in anticipation of more than just his breath teasing against your weeping sex.

The graze of his teeth, curl of his tongue, and suck of his lips at your core turned you into a writhing, mewling mess beneath him. He held you still with the slide of his arms around you to press his hands over the ridge of your hip bones, allowing no retreat from the pleasure that he forced upon your willing body. Each gasp of his name encouraged him to give you more. The grip of your hands over his wrist only made him groan in appreciation for your undoing, and the vibration of that through you gave you a glimpse of Valhalla’s gleaming golden doors behind your tightly clenched eyes.

When your breathing had slowed and you found yourself back in his embrace, he slowly split you in two with the length of his arousal. Once fully seated within you, he sighed into your ear, his lips brushing the shell of it as he held himself still for the benefit of you both.

“Oh, sweet one, how you welcome me so well into your warm embrace,” he all but cooed breathlessly as his arms slipped beneath your back to hold onto the curve of your shoulders.

Your hands mapped the expansive planes of back, relishing in the flex of familiar muscles as he took his pleasure for his own and gave you his in return. You chased your releases together, him with each deep thrust into your quivering walls and you with the grind of his pelvis into the glistening bundle of nerves he had so intently drawn from for your first overwhelming orgasm.

The stutter of his hips and the sting of his teeth around the hammering pulse point in your neck signaled his finish, and you tumbled into yours immediately afterward, clinging to him with every ounce of strength in your body as you threatened to tremble to pieces on his mussed bedding.

Your head settled over his heart after he carefully arranged you beneath the thin sheet. His hands traced soothing lines down the dip of your spine as your breaths slowed together in the moonlit room.

Loki’s rough voice, softened by the satisfaction that you knew sang beneath his own skin as it did yours, lightly fanned over the top of your head just before he peppered kisses there. “I love you, my fierce warrior. Sleep now, and I’ll care for you in the morning.”

~

And take care of you he did. He always did, your Loki. He murmured words of praise for how well your body took every bit of devotion that he had to give, speaking them over the bruise on your neck and the ache in your thighs before washing them away with the claiming scent of his soaps.

After he had dressed you in his tunic and stolen your breath with deep, sweeping kisses against the bathroom counter because “You are ravishing in my clothing”, he sat with you on the couch. Your legs automatically draped over his lap so he could absentmindedly run his hand up and down the bare flesh as you fed each other bites of sugary pastry from the palace kitchens and spoke of nothing and everything.

It was stolen happiness, true, but it was happiness nonetheless.

Your laughter rang throughout the room as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. He tickled his hands up and down your sides and the curve of his lips over your collarbone matched your own wide, toothy smile.

“You are far sweeter than the finest dessert, my love,” he pulled you flush to his chest. “How beautiful, how strong yet soft, how-”

“What is this?”

Loki’s hands tightened protectively around your back and he quickly shifted you beneath him, putting his back to Thor and watching him with narrowed eyes over his shoulder. His outrage battered against your eardrums. “Do you not knock?!”

“I thought you locked the door?”

Loki’s answering growl added to the pit of dread hanging low in your stomach. “I was so distracted by you last night, I forgot.”

A peek around Loki’s shoulder revealed Thor standing dumbfounded in the entryway to Loki’s chambers. The expression would be comical were it not for the consequences that could befall you at word spreading of your relationship.

As if he had read your mind, the door quickly but silently closed behind Thor with a barely-there flick of Loki’s wrist. Loki stood in front of you and held out his hands entreatingly to his brother. “You must not tell Odin. If he were to know-”

“But you despise each other!” Thor shouted, and never were you more grateful for the silencing charms Loki had placed upon his rooms years ago when you had first visited him. “You’ve never even looked at each other with anything less than disdain.”

It took every bit of courage to stand beside Loki and lace your fingers together. “It was all an act. You know that love is difficult in your position, and his. Please, Thor, you have to help us keep this a secret. If you love us at all, please.”

Loki opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him with a squeeze of his hand as you watched Thor carefully. They were brothers, yes, but Thor was your best friend. You knew him just as well as Loki, having grown up with the two. And he needed just a moment longer than Loki for his thoughts to come together.

Thor approached you slowly and bent his head down to search your eyes with the furrow of his brow. “You could do much better than him,” he argued quietly.

Fierce protectiveness clenched in your jaw. “No, I can’t. He’s the best man for me, Thor. I _love_ him.”

Thor turned his focus to Loki, who betrayed nothing behind his stoic expression save for the intensity burning behind his emerald eyes. “You have been blessed to have her, you know this?”

Loki’s hand released yours so his arm could wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his side. The barest tremble of his hand was almost imperceptible through the borrowed tunic you wore. “I do know this, and I thank the Norns every day.”

Just when you thought all hope was lost, that Thor was going to spill your precious secret and force you to flee with Loki, a wide grin spread over his face and he clasped his hands over both of your upper arms. “Tell me how I may aid you in your secrecy?”

And with that disaster averted, the three of you began crafting your plan.


End file.
